Second job I ever got in the world was a Messenger position for a Boston law firm. I was 17. It was the 70s and I delivered things and I picked up things. I got to know the streets of downtown Boston quite well. But then one day this female lawyer told be to “Go to Shreve” and pickup a package with her name on it.
I said, “Shreve? Where is that? What is that?”
The contempt oozed out of her.
What do you do as a bike delivery person in Boston when it’s snow season?
She wanted you to go to San Francisco? Sure hope you weren’t a bicycle messenger.
(j/k)
Okay, I’ll ask; what is Shreve? Where is it? And why was she contemptuous?
Okay, I see the what and where. S.F.? But not why.